


One Year Wait

by j_gabrielle



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, happy feels, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2414087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Going out with someone you made wait for a year until you were comfortable enough to date your ward's former History teacher? And was sure that he wasn't only with you to get to me?" Bruce sits up, crossing his legs under the covers. "That kind of 'not-date'?"</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Year Wait

**Author's Note:**

> So I made a headcannon-y thing on tumblr and it kind of stuck with me... So... et voila?
> 
> If you're interested, you can read it here: http://randomingoftherandomness.tumblr.com/post/98887335297/is-it-weird-that-i-can-see-alfred-and-jim-raising

Bruce blinks owlishly at him, propped up against the mount of pillows at the head of the bed. His new iPad (a gift from one of his father's 'old friends' from Malibu) thoughtlessly lay unattended at his side. The boy's focus is only on his guardian currently fussing at his collar for the umpteenth time; something said guardian is doing all he could to ignore.

"You're going to be late. Leave your top buttons unbuttoned. It'll show off your collarbones. Apparently that's an In Thing." 

Alfred quirks an eyebrow, throwing his ward a sideways glance. "I'm a little afraid to ask about this new found insight." He says, as his hands move to do exactly what Bruce has just said.

"Selina and I stopped by the book store on our way back today. Cosmo says that this is a sure fire way to get him interested in a second date." He shrugs, still not looking away from Alfred. The corner of his lips curl in amusement as he watches a curious shade of red bloom on Alfred's cheeks.

"Oi! Stop that." The man says hotly, huffing a little as he reaches for his coat. "It's not a date." He insists vehemently. "It's just-"

"Going out with someone you made wait for a year until you were comfortable enough to date your ward's former History teacher? _And_ was sure that he wasn't only with you to get to me?" Bruce sits up, crossing his legs under the covers. "That kind of 'not-date'?"

Alfred pauses in the middle of spritzing his collar with cologne (Dior. A gift from Jim Gordon, given on the last day of school before the summer holidays began that made Alfred stutter as the younger man smiled at his awkwardness). "It's... Complicated." Sighing, he moves away from his chest of drawers, taking long strides until he sits down at the bed by his side. "I don't have to go, you know? I could stay. I could go downstairs and tell him that I've changed my mind about tonight. I could change out of these things, make us some snacks and we could marathon some movies." Alfred cups Bruce's cheek, smiling. "What do you say?"

Bruce shakes his head, leaning into the touch almost imperceptibly. Alfred's heart lurches painfully in his chest. 'Too young...' He thinks mournfully, leaning forward to press their foreheads together.

"I like Mr. Gordon. He's a good man." Bruce says in an almost whisper. The ' _He could be good for us. You and me both, but he won't wait forever for us to figure our demons out'_  goes unsaid.

"What? Like I'm not a good man?" Alfred tries, voice catching as he brushes a kiss to the crown of Bruce's dark hair. Bruce grins, the twinkle of mischief in his eyes betraying his true age, and Alfred can't help but smile. "Go to sleep." Alfred says, nudging him back.

He tucks him up under the comforter, taking his tablet and setting it at its' dock. "I'll be back for breakfast. Cereal or toast?"

"Cereal." Bruce says, pulling the covers higher over him. 

Leaving the night lights on, Alfred brushes another kiss to his brow, whispering his promises. Bruce will never admit it, and Alfred will never say, but they know the reason for Bruce sleeping in Alfred's bed instead of his own is the same for all the curious eccentricities he cultivates in his daily life.

"Is he asleep?" 

Jim Gordon stands at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at Alfred as he descends. The man is dressed simply tonight; dark shirt with sleeves rolled up his forearms, slacks and brown leather shoes. Alfred smiles at him, relaxing at the sight of him in their home.

"I'm sorry." He says, offering no further explanations.

Something passes Jim's eyes, darkening them as Alfred approaches. Taking a step forward, he stills as suddenly as he moves. "May I?" He asks, quiet in the hum of the apartment.

Alfred swallows, eyes wide. Nodding once, he braces himself.

"Relax." Jim laughs, the sound low and warm, sending tendrils of happiness up his spine. He reaches out, touching Alfred's shoulders. He leans forward, breath tickling the side of Alfred's face as he gently presses a kiss to his cheek. "There." He declares, voice threaded with a pleased contentment. 

"Did you wait a year to do that?" Alfred chokes, stuttering nervously, breathless in the close proximity of their faces.

Jim shakes his head, eyes crinkling in amusement. "I waited a year for a hell of a lot more, but I think I can wait a little longer." He smiles, looking back up the stairs. "But for tonight, I think we should just order in and wake Bruce for a movie. I have a feeling he won't be sleeping if I take you out."

"But our reservations-"

"-Do not matter." Jim insists. Pulling away, he toes his shoes off, picking them up and placing them by the coat rack. "Go get him." He laughs.

Alfred, frozen in shock, answers almost in a croak. His feet move, propelling him towards Jim. Framing his hands at the sides of Jim's face, he draws him close for a kiss. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" He says in a rush when they separate.

"I would say that it was the peach cobbler you made for the bake sale that first time around," Jim answers easily, wrapping his arms around Alfred. "But then that would be discounting all the little things you've done before that."

Alfred shakes his head, grinning. "Thank you." He says, sincere. Pushing himself away, he runs up the stairs, taking two at a time. As he pauses on the top of them, he sees Jim taking out his mobile and catching the tendrils of his conversation with a McDonald's operator. 

Breathless he turns to his room, hand on the knob as he smiles.

 

[end.]


End file.
